


children of fire

by saiditallbefore



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Jedi Philosophy, POV Alternating, Sith Leia Organa, Sith Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: "You’re thinking of defecting.”“I’ve never seen anyone act like they were,” he says.  “And they were trying to help, and there was all this destruction, and it was all from the Empire.  From us.”“If you’re defecting, I am, too.  I’m not letting you be an idiot by yourself.”Or, Luke and Leia, raised by Darth Vader, defect and join the Rebellion.  It goes as well as one would expect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post](http://brigdh.tumblr.com/post/169018863676/midnightfuckingmayor-star-wars-au-i-just), though I’ve gone careening off the rails since seeing the original prompt.

Luke is brought in to interrogate the Rebel that’s been captured near Ondoron. Only one— the others all got away or were killed.

Really, Leia is much better at this sort of work. Give Luke a lightsaber in his hand, or something physical to move any day. Leia is better with the fiddly sort of mind work, with sensing emotions and reading thoughts. (Someone once suggested it was because she is a woman. Leia promptly choked him with the Force and dared anyone else to challenge her.)

But that doesn’t mean that Luke can’t do it. 

The Rebel scum he’s here to interrogate is a human, thankfully. A man, probably middle-aged. Stormtroopers stand on either side of him, and the mechanism snaps into place to keep him locked down.

“This is your last chance,” Luke says. They never take him up on it, but he likes to offer. Really, it would be easier on everyone.

“I won’t tell you anything!” the man protests.

Luke stares at him placidly. They always think they’ll be the one to resist. 

He places his hands on either side of the Rebel’s head, thumbs at the man’s temples. Eyes closed, Luke breathes deeply and _searches_.

_— stormtroopers everywhere there is shooting everywhere weren’t the clones supposed to work for the Republic? — a child of two or three playing in a grassy field, surrounded by wildflowers — a woman with gray around her temples and a worried expression — a woman in a white dress, with close-cropped auburn hair—_

Luke stops, and examines that memory more closely. Former Imperial senator Mon Mothma, known to be one of the leaders of the Rebel Alliance, stood in what seemed to pass for a briefing room. This memory wasn’t current enough to be useful, but it seemed that this Rebel was a general. Perhaps he was privy to classified information.

Luke prodded the man’s mind again, searching for something useful, something relevant. Codes, plans, bases— anything. 

_— celebrating in the mess hall after a victory, surrounded by friends, there’s even real booze for once— injured on a mission gone wrong on Galidraan III and waiting for rescue— a ship full of refugees, half of them orphans, taken to safety— an old man with a blue lightsaber—_

Obi-Wan Kenobi. The last remnant of the old Jedi Order. Luke grabbed onto that trail of memories and followed it. Maybe he could find out what the old man was up to.

_— Kenobi cutting his way through a platoon of stormtroopers— Kenobi walking among the Rebels, speaking comforting words after a loss— Kenobi, whose soldiers follow him even after he freely admits to his fear of flying— Kenobi, weeping after he hears of Luke and Leia’s actions on Alderaan—_

This isn’t right. None of this is right. 

Luke scowls, and rips through the Rebel general’s mind. The man screams, but Luke pays him no heed.

He’s little more than a shell by the time Luke is finished, but he has an idea of where the Rebellion is currently hiding out. And a questions about exactly how the Rebellion operates.

* * *

Luke meditates on the Rebel’s memories all the way back to the Imperial Center. He feels Leia’s presence in the Force as soon as the planet is in sight, but he brushes her off. She’ll be angry, but this is a matter to speak about in person.

She’s waiting for him in the hangar, arms crossed. She’s dressed for the Senate, in her flowing black robes and hair coiled tightly into a bun. As always, her lightsaber is hanging from her belt.

“Luke.”

He shakes his head. It would not do to show weakness in front of the stormtroopers or guards surrounding them. Instead, he grabs her by the hand and tugs her after him. They walk in silence into their quarters in the ruins of the old Jedi temple. 

The civilians say it’s haunted, but Luke and Leia have lived there their entire lives, and they’ve never seen a single ghost. Just empty halls and empty rooms and crumbling ceilings that open up to the sky. For an order that had decried worldly possessions and decadence, the Jedi had been quite dedicated to surrounding themselves with beautiful things.

Finally, they reach their room: quarters that had once belonged to a Jedi Master, with a view of the Imperial Palace. No one is following them— no one would dare— but Leia does not lose her patience until the door is shut behind them.

“What’s going on?” she demands.

Luke looks out the window, at the familiar view of the unending cityscape. “I was brought in to interrogate a captured Rebel. A general. Something wasn’t right— or maybe— Leia, I looked through all of his memories. I don’t understand!”

He throws a table across the room with the Force, shattering it.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw Kenobi, and he was weak. Emotional. Everyone knew it, but they didn’t care. And I saw children, whose parents had been killed by the Empire, and the Rebellion was finding them homes. And I saw— Leia, the way they operate. They shouldn’t be able to function. But they’re—” He throws his hands up, having run out of words to explain.

But he’s never needed to explain himself to Leia. She stalks toward him, and in a low voice says, “You’re thinking of defecting.”

Luke’s head jerks up. “What? No!”

Leia raises her eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen anyone act like they were,” he says. “And they were trying to help, and there was all this destruction, and it was all from the Empire. From us.”

Leia sighs. “You’re going to get yourself killed, you idiot.”

Luke frowns at her, ready to protest his supposed idiocy.

“If you’re defecting, I am, too. I’m not letting you be an idiot by yourself.”

* * *

Luke still has a lead on the current Rebel location, so he and Leia pack their few belongings and requisition a scout ship. No one is willing to question Lord Vader’s children, so they leave without a problem.

The problems will come when Father and the Emperor discover what they have done. A chill runs down Leia’s spine at just the thought. Luckily, the Emperor is offplanet, working on one of his pet projects. And Father is with him. There’s no one here who can read their traitorous thoughts.

The current Rebel base is on a small moon orbiting Yavin. Predictably, as soon as Luke and Leia’s ship drops into orbit, every gun on the base is aimed at them.

Leia grabs the comm and broadcasts every peaceful signal she knows— which is not many, all told. They don’t usually come in peace.

A female voice comes through the speakers. Mon Mothma. 

“You may land,” she says. “We will be watching you _very_ closely.”

Leia has no doubt.

Luke effortlessly lands the scout ship. He ignores Leia’s sideways glance— this is really a terrible plan— and they exit the ship, lightsabers still holstered at their sides. 

There are gasps, and the minds around her are filled with fear and horror and all the usual sorts of feelings people get upon seeing Vader’s twin children. There are at least a dozen blasters aimed at them, and who knows what else from inside the base. And at the center of it all, a stately woman dressed in flowing white. Mon Mothma.

Luke holds his arms out in a gesture of peace. “We’re here to join the Rebellion,” he announces in a clear, ringing voice.

To her credit, Mothma barely blinks. “Someone get me General Kenobi,” she orders. 

Everything seems to freeze. Leia and Luke stand stock-still. The Rebels all keep their weapons pointed at them, and Mon Mothma stands in the middle of it, placid and unworried.

An old man, dressed in a brown cloak, exits the base.

He walks toward them, and the Rebels scramble out of his way.

Kenobi pauses, looks searchingly at them. “Luke. Leia.”

That takes Leia aback. Their true names aren’t widely known, even within the Empire. They are Darth Cordeum and Darth Imperes. Did he pull the information from their heads?

“We’re here—” Luke begins again.

“To join the Rebellion. Yes, I heard.” Kenobi sighs. He rubs the bridge of his nose, and for a moment he looks very very old and very very tired. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you now and end all of this.”

“You wouldn’t be able to kill us, old man,” Leia retorts.

Unexpectedly, Kenobi laughs. “Let’s not underestimate one another.” He walks closer to them, so they no longer have to raise their voices. “What really brings you here?” His voice is sharp and deadly serious. If the rest of the Jedi died because they were weak, there is no doubt about why Obi-Wan Kenobi is their sole survivor.

“I saw things,” Luke says. “In a Rebel’s mind. I wanted to find out if they were true.” He glances at Leia. “And Leia didn’t want me to come alone.”

Leia meets Kenobi’s eyes evenly. “ _Someone_ needs to watch his back.”

“What did you see?” Kenobi asks.

Luke opens his mouth, then closes it. He shakes his head. “I can’t explain.” Leia can see the thoughts flowing through him— the memories he saw in that Rebel’s mind— but she can’t put voice to them any more than he can. There’s something about them, though. Something that makes her want to know more, even if she isn’t as inclined as Luke is to go haring off in search of answers.

But Kenobi just peers at them. Leia feels a gentle brush against her presence in the Force— so different from the presence of either Father or the Emperor— and Kenobi nods.

“I see,” he says. He sighs again, then gestures to the troops. “At ease!” he calls. Then he turns and leads Luke and Leia inside.

* * *

The generals and admirals of the Rebellion— only half of them human— herd Luke and Leia through the old stone hallways and into a makeshift interrogation room, where they question them extensively. Leia is a bit insulted: they aren’t restrained, there are no weapons trained on them, and Kenobi doesn’t even _try_ to look into their minds. Besides that, the room seems to be a meeting room of some kind, with files and datapads hastily shoved away. There aren’t enough chairs, so several of their so-called interrogators stand.

It’s all very unprofessional.

Kenobi only speaks once, when someone asks who their mother is.

“I don’t know,” Leia says, sharp and biting. It’s always been a sore spot.

At the same time, Kenobi speaks. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, nearly as sharply as Leia herself.

Leia snaps around to look at him, wide-eyed. _He knows._ Father has always refused to speak of it, and the Emperor always promised to tell them when they were ready.

No one asks again, though. The rest of the questions are exactly the sort Leia would expect any semi-competent official to ask a defector: battle plans, strategies, names and locations of Imperial spies, and insight on the Emperor’s plans.

They answer as best they can, but really, they’re not privy to strategy. They’re not even properly part of the chain of command. They answer directly to the Emperor— or they _did_. 

Besides,, the Rebellion would be fools to believe that Leia and Luke are telling all they know— even though they are. Mon Mothma and Kenobi are many things, but neither one of them are fools. 

Finally, the interrogation is over. To Leia’s relief, the non-humans are all quick to leave, including the Mon Calamari the others all seem to respect. Only Mon Mothma and Kenobi remain.

Leia turns on Kenobi. “Who was she?” she demands.

Luke touches her arm, trying to calm her, but she jerks away.

“Who was she?” Leia demands again. She considers throwing Kenobi against the wall with the Force, but he’s quite capable of fighting back. And besides, Luke would be disappointed with her.

“A woman who spent her entire life working for the preservation of the Republic,” Kenobi says. “That’s all you need to know.”

Leia meets his eyes, and engages in a staring match. But his cold, blue eyes appear to look straight into her soul, and she is the first to look away.

“For now,” Leia allows grudgingly.

* * *

They give Luke and Leia separate rooms. They’ve slept apart before, of course, but usually only when they’re separated for missions. At home, back in the old temple, they share a bed. Most of the Rebels seem to share rooms, but no one wants to share with either Luke or Leia.

Luke thinks that’s a bit overly cautious. They’re here in peace; they wouldn’t kill anyone unless they were duly provoked. 

But he reminds himself that none of the Rebellion, besides old Kenobi, can read their intentions. Perhaps if neither he nor Leia murder all of the Rebels in their sleep, they’ll be allowed more leeway.

He is assigned to room with a slim, dark-haired Corellian man: Commander Wedge Antilles.

Commander Antilles watches him warily, without speaking. Luke ignores him, choosing instead to sit on own bunk and meditate. The events of the past days have been unsettling.

Commander Antilles’ presence makes it difficult to concentrate. He is breathing too loudly, thinking too hard. He is twitchy, ready to grab his blaster at the first provocation.

It’s like a constant buzzing on the edge of his awareness and Luke can’t stand it. He reaches out with the Force, feeling for the edges of the commander’s consciousness. Luke holds onto that, and, with a small wave of his hand, Antilles falls unconscious. 

Luke breathes a sigh of relief, and settles in to meditate once again.

* * *

Leia tosses and turns in her narrow bunk. Her roommate— Commander Viv Chandler— is not even pretending to sleep, instead choosing to clean her impressively large collection of blasters while staring at Leia. But Leia is fully capable of turning out Chandler’s ridiculous posturing, especially when she has her own thoughts to focus on.

It doesn’t make _sense_. Kenobi must be trying to trick them. To give them ties to the Rebellion, somehow.

Leia has wondered who their mother was for most of their life. One of the emperor’s guards, another Sith apprentice, an assassin— she’s entertained all these ideas at some point. She’d clung tightly to the idea of their mother as a bounty hunter or mercenary for a long time, because perhaps that meant she was still alive, somewhere. 

She’s never imagined a pawn of the Republic.

Perhaps that is why Father never told them. Perhaps he was ashamed of his weakness, in choosing a woman who knew so little about the world. Perhaps he planned to make it a lesson about the value of vetting your allies thoroughly.

Perhaps— she forces herself to think it. Father only once spoke of their mother, when he had said that Leia looked like her, and his presence in the Force seemed lighter, then. She liked to think that he had been fond of her mother. But perhaps their mother had been a prisoner, or worse.

Or perhaps Kenobi is manipulating them. She can’t get a good read on him— his mind is locked down tight. 

She’ll have to wait, and watch for him to slip up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone at the [Mos Eisley Cantina discord server](https://discord.gg/QsgMZqG) for your help and encouragement!


	2. Chapter 2

Their second day— the first full day among the Rebellion— Luke wakes early. He’s always woken early, only partly due to habit. Father did not believe in lazing about when one could be meditating on the Force or working to further the Empire.

He leaves his bunk— Antilles is still asleep— and follows his sense of where people are gathering.

The Force leads him what seems to pass for a mess hall among the Rebellion. Though it’s early, the mess is already half-filled with Rebels, talking and joking as they eat their frankly disgusting-looking rations. Luke is fairly certain that even the stormtroopers aren’t fed anything this awful.

But as nothing better seems likely to materialize, Luke takes a portion and sits down at a half-empty table. There’s no sign of Leia, yet, but he can feel her presence on the other side of the base. Almost instantly, the Rebels who had been sitting at his table jump up and flee.

Luke frowns. They really ought to work on their discipline. Stormtroopers are better trained than to flee the moment they get a bit nervous. But besides that, they really aren’t so different. From them, he can feel the constant attention that has always been turned his way, as the son of Lord Vader. There is a current of fear, as well; that, too, is constant. They know what he is capable of, and they are afraid.

As they should be.

Luke examines his portion— some kind of dehydrated veg product— and takes a bite. It tastes like sand.

He’s still choking it down when Leia joins him. She’s dressed practically today, in a black outfit that matches Luke’s and her hair in a long braid. 

She’s also carrying a portion of the rations. She looks down at it, wrinkling her nose. “We could still go back.”

Luke grimaces. “And say what? That we withheld information, refused backup, and gave classified information to the Rebels?” They’re in too deep now.

Leia sighs. Then she deliberately breaks off a piece of the veg product, and eats it. “This is going to end badly,” she says.

They sit there in silence, alone at their table, eating their awful rations, until Kenobi enters the room.

He pauses in front of their table. “Come with me.” Then he continues walking.

Luke and Leia both rise and follow him. Kenobi leads them through a maze of hallways. Like Luke and Leia’s old home, the Rebel base on Yavin 4 is in an old temple. But unlike the old Jedi temple, this is a ruin that has been left to rot for ages. 

Finally, they make their way outside. There are too many people here for it to be truly peaceful: droids buzzing back and forth, pilots and mechanics working on x-wings, troops carrying supplies back and forth.

But it’s still more peaceful than the Imperial Center could ever be. Kenobi finally stops walking at when he reaches a series of pools, fed by a brook. The sound of flowing water drowns out most of the other noise of the base. The only other person nearby is a man Luke recognizes.

Leia stops short, and Luke can feel the anger flare up around her in the Force. “Senator Organa,” she spits. “I should have expected to see you here.”

Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan looks as distinguished and composed here on a remote base as he does on the senate floor, and he seems to feel less fear than most. He nods once at Leia. “Lady Cordeum.”

“Leia,” Kenobi says mildly. “They are Luke and Leia.”

Luke hasn’t been called by his given name this much in his whole life. It’s a bit disconcerting. Perhaps that’s what Kenobi is aiming for.

Organa nods again, then coolly walks away, leaving them alone with Kenobi, who sits cross-legged on the shore of one of the pools with the dexterity of a man half his age.

Luke sits down in front of him, and Leia follows suit.

“Are you going to try and tell us why we should become Jedi?” Leia asks sardonically. “Because the Jedi were failures, Kenobi. I don’t plan on failing.”

Luke crosses his arms. “Neither do I.” Kenobi knows things— can teach them things— but Luke will not give up the power he has attained for some Jedi ideal of enlightenment.

“You’re right,” Kenobi says. “From a certain point of view, at least. The Jedi kept the peace throughout the galaxy. The achieved great things. And at the height of their power, they— _we_ — allowed Emperor Palpatine to fester in their shadow, and pushed Vader into the embrace of the Dark.”

Luke clenches his fist. “Then even you agree. The Sith have power— power beyond you could ever imagine, Kenobi.”

Kenobi gives them one of his stern, piercing looks, and Luke remembers that even Father hesitates to face the old Jedi. He continues speaking, mildly, as if Luke had never interrupted. “But if the way of the Jedi is flawed, then more so is the way of the Sith. You know that already, or you would not have come here.”

Luke says nothing.

“Close your eyes,” Kenobi commands.

Luke obeys. This, at least, is familiar. Both Father and— on rare occasions— the Emperor have instructed he and Leia in such a manner. 

He breathes deeply, feeling the Force flowing all around them. It burns brightly around the three of them, but it connects to every living being in the base: the Rebels, of course, but also the plants, the fish in the stream, the birds in the trees, and every other creature on the planet. 

“Do you know why you are here?” Kenobi asks.

Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have an answer. Neither, it seems, does Leia.

“You’ve been taught the way of the Sith— that there is nothing but strength. That trust is weakness. But you already know this to be false. Your trust in one another is your greatest strength.”

* * *

Kenobi doesn’t let Leia and Luke loose until past noon. Leia takes her portion of rations and leaves the mess hall. 

She wanders the hallways aimlessly, though she takes care to look as though she knows exactly where she’s going and what she’s doing. The few Rebels she sees are quick to scramble out of her way, which gives her a bit of amusement. 

Really, she’s interested in the temple itself. Luke is usually the more spiritual one— she doesn’t care to sit and meditate all day, when she could be doing something practical. But the old building is beautiful in its own way, and despite being ancient and crumbling and outmoded, something in it calls to her.

She doesn’t believe in ghosts. She’s lived too long among death to believe in them.

But this temple feels far from deserted— and not just because of the Rebels. There’s something in the Force here, something that calls to her and repels her all at once. And for the first time in many years, perhaps the first time ever, she is frightened.

Leia turns on her heel, and walks as quickly as she can without looking undignified back to the more populated parts of the base.

The feeling in the Force that had so unnerved her is easing, and it distracts her so that she doesn’t pay enough attention when going around a corner— and careens into Senator Bail Organa.

They both crash onto the ground, and Leia feels her cheeks heat. The troops around them seem as though they would love to laugh at her humiliation, but they don’t dare. If she were home, she would have destroyed anyone who had witnessed her in such a situation, but that seemed to be the sort of thing the Rebels frowned upon.

Leia uses the Force to pull her to her feet, and takes out her anger on an extraordinarily loud protocol droid was fussing over Senator Organa and his scattered mess of datapads. She reaches out with the Force and crumples the droid into a ball. As the droid sputters to a stop, she walks away.

Or she tries to. 

Senator Organa grabs her arm, and she whirls on him, wishing she could channel lightning like the Emperor can. 

Something in her eyes, in her demeanor must scare him— as it rightly should. He drops her arm, but he does not step back.

“I know what you are,” he says. “You and your brother both. If this is a trick— if you even _think_ to betray us— I will kill you where you stand.”

Leia laughs. “All your bleating about pacifism, and you would throw it away like that?”

Organa levels a look at her. “I fought in the Clone Wars. I know how war rips the galaxy apart. But I will fight to my last breath to destroy the Empire.”

This time, when Leia storms away, Organa lets her go. But storming away does not feel quite as satisfying as it did the first time.

* * *

Luke had asked Leia to join him after lunch at the spot Kenobi had shown them— sparring together is excellent practice— but she’d preferred to spend some time alone. So he is running through his katas, his red lightsaber glowing in bright contrast to his natural surroundings. 

He sheaths his lightsaber when he hears approaching footsteps behind him.

It’s Mon Mothma, and three guards. “Luke,” she says, shaping the word as if it is particularly foreign, or distasteful. “Come with us.”

Luke eyes the guards. He’s not worried— he could easily overpower them. But Mon Mothma’s tone doesn’t bode well.

Still, he follows her. 

They end up in a cramped meeting room— or perhaps a repurposed storage room— with crates stacked in the corner. 

Really, Luke is wondering why he’s even surprised anymore. The Rebels don’t seem to understand proper organization at all.

More surprisingly, Commander Antilles is there, waiting, arms crossed. He glares at Luke, but Luke ignores him. What can Antilles do to him?

There is a table in the room as well, with two chairs on one side and one on the other. Mon Mothma gestures to the lone chair.

“Sit,” she says. “Please,” she adds, as an afterthought. 

Luke sits, and Mothma and Antilles mirror his action on the other side of the table.

“Commander Antilles has levelled an accusation against you,” Mothma says in a level tone. “He claims that you knocked him unconscious last night.”

“With his Sith powers,” Antilles clarified.

Luke looks between them, baffled. “He was distracting me from my meditation. I’m sure it didn’t harm him permanently.”

“You—” Antilles lunges across the table at Luke.

Luke holds up a hand, feels the Force flow through him, and stops Antilles in mid-air. Mothma’s guards raise their blasters and point them at Luke. 

“ _Enough_!” Mothma shouts, slamming her hands on the table. 

Luke loosens his hold, and Antilles falls onto the table. Perhaps it’s a bit childish, but watching Antilles scramble off the table and back into his seat amuses him.

The guards lower their blasters, but don’t put them away. Even so, Luke ignores them.

But when Mon Mothma pins him with her gaze, he loses a bit of his confidence. She isn’t Force-sensitive, and he could defeat her in a physical fight easily. But she’s a powerful force in the Rebellion, and it would be unwise to be on her bad side.

“You are _not_ to use your powers against any member of the Rebellion. In fact, you are not to use your powers in this base, unless you are in mortal danger. Do you understand?”

She looks so confident, now, with her perfect posture and her hands folded in front of her, even though Luke could squish her like a bug.

For a moment, he is tempted. Why is he even here? Why should he have to follow Mon Mothma’s rules? He could destroy the Rebellion from the inside out, and be rewarded by the Emperor for his troubles.

Instead, he nods. “I understand.”

Mothma looks inordinately pleased with herself. “Dismissed,” she says. “These rules apply to your sister, as well. I will inform her.”

Luke briefly imagine how that conversation is likely to go, and hurries away as quickly as he can without insulting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone at the [Mos Eisley Cantina discord server](https://discord.gg/QsgMZqG) for your help and encouragement!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life intervened and stopped me from writing this for a while, but I’m back!

The Rebels has no idea what to do with power when it is right in front of them. Perhaps General Kenobi is content to be kept on a leash, but Mon Mothma seems to think that Luke and Leia can be tamed, too. That they would be content to use the Force only in instances of mortal danger.

Only someone completely blind to the Force could say something as idiotic as that. Leia could no more stop using the Force than she could stop breathing.

Perhaps she could refrain from using it against sentient creatures, but she is the daughter of Lord Vader. Why should lesser beings stop her from using her gift?

These are the thoughts surging through Leia’s head when Luke finds her, storming down a newly-empty hallway.

“Do you still want to leave?” he asks her. “We don’t have to go back to the Emperor.”

Leia considers this, briefly. Luke might be the only person in the galaxy optimistic enough to have met the Emperor and yet believe he could escape the Empire’s reach. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t think so. Kenobi knows something about our mother.”

“We could go somewhere else,” Luke offers. “Look for answers there.”

It’s an empty offer. Neither of them has any idea where to begin. No face, no name, no planet— only the tantalizing hints that Kenobi offered. 

And besides, Leia isn’t entirely sure she wants to leave, either. “I don’t understand them,” she says. “But maybe— maybe these are the answers you were looking for.” She can’t bring herself to say _we_ , but Luke understands anyway.

He nods. “Maybe we should do what they say. For now. And see what we find out.”

This agreed, they walk on in silence, until they finally find themselves outside again. Kenobi is out there, too, this time supervising drills the ground troops are running.

Kenobi always has a hardness to him that Leia would not have expected from a Jedi Master, but here he seems even further removed from his Jedi mysticism. He’s a soldier, through and through. 

She knows, of course, that he was a general in the Clone Wars, that he led armies for the Republic. It’s one of many reasons Father and the Emperor consider him such a formidable foe. But knowing this is different from seeing him in action. His every move is purposeful, and he uses a blaster for this, rather than a lightsaber. 

Leia cannot imagine lowering herself to train mere ground troops. But General Kenobi is one of the Rebellion’s most valuable resources; it only makes sense that they would use his knowledge and experience to gain whatever advantage they can.

An advantage the Rebellion sorely needs. Leia has spent many hours watching stormtroopers, and the Rebels are nowhere near as disciplined or as experienced. Frankly, it’s a miracle they’ve all survived this long.

* * *

Luke isn’t _avoiding_ Commander Antilles. That would imply that he is afraid of Commander Antilles, and he isn’t. He would just rather not deal with the other man for the time being. 

Unfortunately, the universe seems to have other plans for him.

As the evening meal approaches, Kenobi materializes out of seemingly nowhere and gestures for Luke and Leia to follow him. He leads them to one of the dozens of rooms the Rebels have repurposed as makeshift meeting rooms. This one, like the others, is half-filled with junk. The Rebels inside are sitting around a table, with a Mon Calamari standing at the head of the table. 

Luke eyes the Mon Calamari warily. He’s dressed in uniform, and the others seem to be deferring to him. Probably he was the same one who sat in at Luke and Leia’s interrogation the night before, though Luke couldn’t say for sure— non-humans are so hard to tell apart. 

The others around the table— including Commander Antilles— look at Luke and Leia with open suspicion, but the Mon Calamari seems to have been expecting them. 

“Excellent!” he exclaims. “Let’s begin.”

Luke fights the urge to share a bewildered glance with Leia— they were both better trained than that. Why are they being included in this meeting?

The Mon Calamari (Admiral Ackbar, a name Luke dimly recognizes) launches into an explanation about an Imperial officer on leave. Supposedly, the officer has information about troop movements— the sort of information that Luke and Leia wouldn’t have concerned themselves with unless it was needed for a mission.

Finally, Ackbar reaches the reason why Luke and Leia are here. “This is an information-gathering mission only. Commander Antilles will take charge.” He pauses, and turns one of his giant, fishy eyes on Luke. “I have recommended that Cordeum or Imperes here—”

Beside Luke, Kenobi twitches at the use of the Sith names. Ackbar doesn’t seem to notice.

“I have recommended that Cordeum or Imperes here accompany Antilles on the mission, as they have experience with information retrieval.”

The table erupts into confusion. All around them, people are shouting and making accusations. 

“What are you thinking?”

“You would entrust this information to a Sith?”

“I’m not working with them!” That last one is Antilles, of course.

“Enough!” Ackbar shouts. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Leia is better at interrogations than I am,” Luke offers.

Kenobi clears his throat. “Actually, I have another job for Leia.”

She glares venomously at Kenobi. Luke, sitting between the two of them, pushes aside the urge to hide under the table. 

“Then Imperes will go,” Ackbar says.

At this point, Luke isn’t sure if Ackbar doesn’t know his and Leia’s actual names, if he’s trying to pick a fight with Kenobi, or if he’s trying to make some kind of point. Perhaps he just dislikes using first names.

“Right,” Luke says. “When do we leave?” He could argue, could point out that _he_ doesn’t particularly wish to work with Antilles, either. But his position has already been made perfectly clear to him. What is the use of arguing?

“As soon as possible,” Ackbar says.

“Now, wait.” Antilles stands up, clearly ready to protest.

This time, it’s Antilles who gets the full force of Ackbar’s fish-eyed glare. “You will go,” he says. “Or I will immediately recommend your demotion.”

Antilles sits down.

* * *

Luke gets whisked away after the meeting to prep for his mission, leaving Leia alone with Kenobi.

She doesn’t ask him what he has planned for her— she won’t give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t seem particularly inclined to tell her, either, leaving them sitting in a quickly-emptying room, staring silently at each other.

Finally, he sighs. “I’m too old for this,” he grumbles, half to himself. “Come on. We’re going to Alderaan.”

Leia’s blood runs cold. She searches for any protest that won’t make her sound weak, but they all die on her lips.

“Why Alderaan?” she finally asks. Her voice sounds tremulous even to her own ears, and she curses her weakness.

“I promised Bail I’d help him resolve an issue,” Kenobi replies placidly. “And I think it will be good for you.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Leia snarls. “I _know_ what we did— what I did— on Alderaan! I don’t need you to show me!”

Kenobi’s only reaction is a slow blink. “I hate to break it to you, Leia, but not everything in the galaxy revolves around you and your brother.”

“What if I refuse to go?” Leia knows she sounds desperate, knows that she’s showing too many of her feelings here. But she can’t— won’t— go back to Alderaan.

“You are welcome to refuse, of course,” Kenobi says. “But your place here is dependent upon your cooperation with the Rebellion.”

That’s clear enough for Leia. She’s heard these kind of threats before, and though she doubts that Kenobi’s consequences for disobedience would measure up to the Emperor’s, she has no wish to test him.

She sighs. “Fine. When do we leave?”

* * *

The ship Antilles and Luke have been assigned is a decommissioned Imperial transport. 

“Bet you feel right at home in here,” Antilles says darkly.

Luke glances around. It’s true, he’s ridden in a number of Imperial transports over the years, and they all look more-or-less alike. Flying with Antilles isn’t so different from flying with some general or admiral or commander whose name he never bothered to learn.

But the back of the ship is empty, not packed with stormtroopers. And he’s not in charge of this mission, he’s answering to Antilles.

He probes gently at the edges of Antilles’ mind. He can’t get a sense of what the other man is thinking without going deeper into his mind, and probably alerting Antilles of what he’s doing. But he gets a sense of fear, of anger, of determination. Luke discounts the fear— everyone without the Force is afraid of him. The anger and determination are slightly more interesting, though still expected of a man in Antilles’ position.

Satisfied that Antilles is as utterly banal as he’d previously thought, Luke sinks into the co-pilot’s chair.

It’s not until they clear Yavin’s atmosphere that Antilles speaks again.

“Look, I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I was put in charge of this mission. If I give you an order, I expect you to follow it.”

“I know how to follow orders, Antilles,” Luke says. After all, he’s been following orders all his life.

Maybe Antilles hears something in his voice, because he doesn’t push for more reassurance. They fly in silence for a while longer, before he adds, “Call me Wedge. Everyone else does.”

Luke briefly wishes he had a last name, just so he could make Antilles— _Wedge_ — call him by that. There’s no need for this much familiarity among comrades.

 _When in Coruscant…_ he thinks, and sighs. “Fine. Wedge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone at the [Mos Eisley Cantina discord server](https://discord.gg/QsgMZqG) for your help and encouragement! Special thanks to Apricot for helping me brainstorm the Luke & Wedge subplot. <3


	4. Chapter 4

The flight to Alderaan is marked by stony silence. Kenobi seems perfectly happy to keep quiet, for once, and Leia is in no mood to make nice. If she had been traveling with anyone else, she would have spent the trip meditating, but she didn’t want to take the chance that meditation would allow him to read her thoughts and feelings more closely.

So instead, Leia spends the flight staring at the viewscreen, trying not to think about what might await her on Alderaan.

When they finally arrive, they don’t land in the capital city of Aldera, but instead in Ildeza, on the far side of the planet. Like all cities on Alderaan, it is built as an extension of the environment, but while Aldera is built to blend into the snow-capped mountains that surround it, Ildeza springs up amid plains and farmlands as though it grew there naturally.

Kenobi lands at the spaceport, and Leia stands, reassured by the weight of the lightsaber and blaster hanging on her hips. Kenobi hands her a cloak, and she wraps it around herself, pulls the hood over her face. 

She still doesn’t know what they’re here to do, but— petty as it is— she won’t ask. Whatever Kenobi throws at her, she can take it.

The Ildeza spaceport is as technologically advanced as any in the Imperial Center, but here, there’s not a single Imperial uniform in sight. 

Technically, Alderaan is governed by the Empire. In actuality, Queen Breha oversees everything on her planet while her viceroy, Senator Bail Organa, deals with diplomatic matters. They conduct themselves with perfect poise, speaking against Imperial laws without ever running afoul of those laws themselves.

It is no surprise that the Emperor hates Alderaan. On the few occasions when they have crossed the line, he has taken pleasure in punishing them— harshly.

Leia shakes those thoughts out of her head. Kenobi is striding ahead of her, apparently unconcerned. She hurries to keep up, taking two strides to every one of his.

Soon, they are out of the spaceport and in the city proper. It’s like any other city on any other Core World— towering durasteel buildings reaching to the sky, streets crowded with speeders and trams, bustling sidewalks crowded with sentient species from all reaches of the galaxy. Leia almost forgets that she’s on Alderaan with old Kenobi until he pauses at a tram stop.

He purchases two tickets from a droid, and Leia restrains herself from asking where he got Imperial credits. When the next tram stops, they board, along with half a dozen other passengers.

Leia takes a seat, and watches through the window, as the cityscape speeds past. They’re heading for the outskirts now.

Out past the farmlands, they make a stop at a small town, and most of the tram empties out.

“Next stop, Rilpari!” an automated voice announces.

Leia glares at Kenobi.

* * *

Antilles— _Wedge_ — puts them down in the city of Cadma Falls on Cadimia VI. Luke’s never been here before, but he knows it by reputation: a resort planet, whose money comes from tourism. He’s heard officers talk about places like this, where they go to drink and gamble and have sex. 

“Do we have the target’s location?” Luke asks.

“The—” Wedge begins, then shakes his head. “We’ve heard the _target_ has a weakness for gambling, so we’ll be hitting the casinos.”

Luke looks out the viewscreen. He can see at least six casinos, just from this spot. “That seems… inefficient.”

“Too bad. Get dressed.” Wedge tosses a bundle of fabric to Luke.

Luke unfolds the fabric— it’s a dark blue shirt, embroidered with swirls around the neckline. It almost certainly belongs to Wedge.

“No chance of us blending in,” Wedge says as he peels off his bright orange flightsuit. “But I’d rather we didn’t look like ourselves.”

It’s sensible enough. No doubt people will be looking for Luke by now. Cadimia VI isn’t an official Imperial world, but most of its tourists and customers probably aren’t on leave from the Rebellion. There’s no sense taking unnecessary chances.

They leave the transport and walk side-by-side into the closest casino— a tiny hole-in-the-wall that seems to be mostly populated by locals. As he surveys the crowds, Luke realizes he never got a description of what this Imperial officer they’re looking for is supposed to look like— but Wedge did. It’s simple enough to pull the image Wedge was shown from his thoughts without the other man noticing. He has all the Force sensitivity of a rock.

Feeling more adequately prepared, Luke looks around the cramped room, filled with gaming tables. He and Wedge split up, working their way around the edges of the room as inconspicuously as possible. 

“He’s not here,” Luke says.

They exit the casino and move onto the next one— a gaudier establishment, decorated with gleaming chrome on every surface. Again, they split up and make their way around the edges of the room, attempting to look like they belong here. Again, nothing.

They don’t find the officer until the fourth casino, a glittery affair where both Wedge and Luke stick out like sore thumbs. Fortunately, the officer they’re looking for is in plain sight, at one of the sabacc tables. Unfortunately, the table is in the middle of the room, where he’ll be nearly impossible to extract without making a scene.

“I’ll go in from the left, you go in from the right,” Wedge says in an undertone.

“Or,” Luke says, “I could _convince_ him.” His gesture and tone make it clear even to Wedge what he means.

“Oh! Right, you can—” Wedge looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Yeah, do that.”

Luke moves closer to the officer, hoping he’s not particularly strong-minded. He tries to look like he’s watching the sabacc game, and reaches out his mind.

The officer’s mind is clear and organized. Luke whispers into it: _You’ve had too much to drink. You’re leaving the casino after this round._

He’s a man used to taking orders, not resisting them. “I’ve had a bit to drink,” he tells his companions at the table. “I’m done after this round.”

Luke glances at Wedge, who takes his cue and and heads for the exit. Luke waits for the officer to leave and trails him at what he hopes is a discreet distance. He plans to Force-choke the man into unconsciousness— it’s seems the least messy way of handling the situation. But by the time he reaches the exit, Wedge has already knocked the man unconscious with the butt of his blaster.

“What took you so long?” Wedge asks.

Luke sighs, and the two men begin dragging the Imperial officer toward their ship.

* * *

The Rilpari tram stop is newly built. And like the rest of the small city— or what’s left of it— it’s completely empty.

The tram leaves as soon as Kenobi and Leia step off of it. It must have rerouted its schedule just for them. 

Certainly, no one else is coming or going from Rilpari today. 

The last time Leia was here, it was with Luke at her side, and a squadron of stormtroopers at their command.

Rilpari had been inconsequential— a small city on the plains, only notable for the nearby Rilpari Caverns, so renowned for their beauty that they attracted tourists from all across the galaxy.

Until the Empire had intercepted a seditious message, sent from Rilpari.

Leia had never learned what the message had said, nor had Luke. That wasn’t part of their mission briefing. At the time, she had trusted that if the Emperor said it was seditious, it must have been.

And so, she and Luke had landed here, and they had led their squadron down the city streets. They had asked for the traitors to surrender. And when no one had stepped forward, they made an example of the city.

Leia and Luke had gone after the most prominent citizens— the mayor, the council, the nobles who lived in the city. Hearing the ruckus, the rest of the citizens flooded the streets to see what was going on, following behind the squadron of stormtroopers like some kind of morbid parade. 

As the citizens of Rilpari looked on, Luke and Leia had executed the nobles, the mayor, and the council on the front steps of the mayor’s own home, before sending the stormtroopers to take care of the rest.

In the end, every sentient being in the city was executed, and the city was razed to the ground. 

That was several years ago, now. Now, most of the city is still rubble, but there seemed to have been some small effort at rebuilding. A few utilitarian buildings stand amidst the rubble, with shacks leaning up against them. Kenobi strides toward the buildings, and Leia reluctantly follows, pulling her cloak around herself more tightly.

Past the farthest building, a small group of people are clearing rubble. There’s about a dozen of them, and based on the progress they seem to have made so far, it’s going to take them another decade to clear the ruins of the old city, never mind building a new one in its place.

A pair of women are struggling with an oversized piece of wall from a collapsed building. Kenobi steps forward, and lifts it gently with the Force, placing it on the out-of-the-way spot where the workers have been piling their debris.

“We’re here to help,” Kenobi says. 

* * *

Luke watches, arms crossed, as Wedge rifles through the officer’s pocket for any information they might be able to use. Of course, he doesn’t find anything of use, which Luke could have predicted. No matter how convenient it might be, or whether the officer is on leave or not, the punishments for carrying information that might threaten the safety and security of the Empire are not worth the crime.

Wedge tosses what he did find— a handful of credits, an identification chip, a comm unit— on the table. The chip identifies the officer as Commodore Tretha Desdar.

“Are you done?” Luke asks, not bothering to disguise his boredom.

“You can wake him up as soon as we get him secured.” Wedge pulls a couple of ropes out from under a bench, and Luke helps him tie Commodore Desdar to the chair securely.

As soon as Wedge steps back, apparently satisfied that Desdar won’t escape, Luke waves his hand sharply. Commodore Desdar jerks awake.

“What— where—” Desdar begins babbling, but cuts himself off when he sees Luke. His eyes widen. “Imperes,” he breathes. “I swear, I have only ever served the Empire faithfully—”

Luke smiles joylessly. “I have no doubt.”

He steps forward, places his hands on either side of Desdar’s head, thumbs at his temples. He closes his eyes and _searches_.

_—commanding a battle from a bridge another victory but not enough not enough for a promotion— the Grand Moff is not happy about his latest losses and his only saving grace is that it was the Grand Moff and not Vader or his children but he’s alive and he will come back he always comes back— he watches the footage of Imperes and Cordeum conducting an interrogation and they scare him more more than Vader because they’re human and they’re barely more than children but they’re not they’re not at all—_

Desdar is screaming, and Wedge is yelling something, but Luke pushes all that aside. He needs to concentrate if he’s going to get this information.

_—a meeting with other officers in the Imperial Navy, a plan involving troop movements toward Naboo— a trap closing in on one of the leaders of the Rebellion—_

Luke focuses in, even as the name and face of the target tries to elude him. Then he releases Desdar and steps back.

“They’ve set up a trap for Senator Naberrie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone at the [Mos Eisley Cantina discord server](https://discord.gg/QsgMZqG) for your help and encouragement!


End file.
